


I See Your Reflection Walking By

by athletiger



Category: Marvel 3490
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Female Namor, Female Tony Stark, Infidelity, Temporary Character Death, Warnings added in Notes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:35:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23984671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/athletiger/pseuds/athletiger
Summary: It was a just a normal day in the life of Steve Rogers.At least, it seemed that way, if it weren't for the (metaphorical) ghosts that haunted him.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Natasha Stark
Comments: 7
Kudos: 60
Collections: Captain America/Iron Man Reverse Bang 2020





	I See Your Reflection Walking By

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Goodbye Steve](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24086329) by [jayjayverse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jayjayverse/pseuds/jayjayverse). 



> I was extremely honored to work on this fic with Jayv for RBB 2020. Their art is _gorgeous_ , and I just couldn't resist claiming it despite the fact that I told myself that I wasn't going to do this event this year. I am one of two writers who wrote for this gorgeous piece of art, starksnack being the other one. Check out Jay's work [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24086329), and kait's wonderful RBB fic [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24095524/)! It is absolutely beautiful and I'm very glad to have worked with Jay and kait!
> 
> I'd like to thank [starksnack](https://archiveofourown.org/users/starksnack/pseuds/starksnack) for being my lovely beta, and [shipperslist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShippersList/pseuds/ShippersList) for being my alpha reader.
> 
> This fic may or may not be potentially triggering - I don't think it is, but I will do a tl;dr summary of this fic at the end so that you may decide. Topics include: death/snapped/gone because Infinity Stones as a temporary death, using sex as a business transaction, and...that's all I can think of.

Steve awoke with a heaving gasp, hand automatically reaching out towards…

Nothing. There was nothing there but the cold sheets beside him. He was alone, as per usual, but somehow there was this overbearing sense of loss that pressed against his chest like a vice. Dried tears stuck to his face. It felt like the sadness was eating him alive. He didn’t know what was causing this overwhelming pain. 

He blinked.

It was dawn, the morning light filtering in through the tattered curtains. Steve sat up, eyes scanning from side to side. He recognized it as his room. This was his apartment. It felt familiar.

It also felt alien. Steve frowned. It wasn’t supposed to feel weird, being here in his own bed, in his own room, with nothing out of place. Like any soldier’s room, his room was immaculate and neat. He was right where he was supposed to be. Still, he just felt like there was something missing...like there was a whole other half of himself missing.

Perhaps there was something more. Still, when he tried to think about it, it remained frustratingly out of reach, and with a groan, he let the thought slip away.

He needed to start his day.

Not one to dawdle in bed, he quickly scooted off of it and tossed his sweatpants and shirt on. He went through his routine, stuffing socks on his feet, then his shoes, starting the coffee machine. As the coffee beans ground away, he headed toward the door. The crisp September air greeted him as he opened it and he shivered slightly when a breeze passed by. It was welcome, though, because it helped him shake off the lingering cobwebs of sleep from his mind, and he set off Eastward bound, shoes pounding on the concrete.

Steve never stopped appreciating the way his breaths drew air into his lungs more easily than his pre-serum days, and he would never forget how everything was fixed by the serum. He ran through the streets of Brooklyn, not particularly thinking about where he was going. He just needed to run, keep in shape, be ready for the next mission. His feet carried him across the Brooklyn Bridge into Lower Manhattan. He turned right. The morning crowd was beginning to gather, making the city-that-never-sleeps all the more lively as the crowd bustled to work. He weaved through the people deftly. 

Up ahead, the Stone Tower stood tall in all its glory, flaunting its gaudy architecture. It wasn’t often that Steve took this route, but whenever he saw the building, he scoffed under his breath. He didn’t care for the way Tiberius Stone flaunted his name on one of the largest buildings in New York. It just didn’t seem right. There was a niggling in the back of his mind telling him that it was wrong. The words STONE may have been lettered on the tower, but it wasn’t supposed to be there. He just didn’t know why.

So distracted in looking up, Steve forgot to look forward until he collided with someone. While he didn’t stumble, it was a near thing. The other person, though, yelped in surprise and tripped over her stilettos. Instinctively, Steve caught her, then snatched her falling tablet before it hit the ground.

“Miss Potts!” Steve exclaimed in surprise.

The other woman looked at him and made an inquisitive noise, her mouth open in an “o.” “I’m sorry, do I know you?” she asked.

The thing was, Steve didn’t know her. He had never met this woman before, so calling her name was shocking to say the least. He put her back onto her feet and handed back her tablet. “No,” Steve admitted. “I’m really sorry. I don’t know why I called you that.”

She hummed. “I usually remember faces, especially one as handsome as yours.” He blushed at that statement, but she scoffed and waved her hand in dismissal. A gold band shone around her ring finger. “Don’t worry, I’m married. But I’ve never seen you before, and I’m very good with names.”

“Steve. Steve Rogers,” he introduced himself. “I’m sorry for calling you that. I don’t know what came over me.”

“Oh no.” She shook her head. “But that’s the thing, that  _ is _ my name. Perhaps you’ve seen me with Mister Stone, or…”

It  _ wasn’t _ though. Steve didn’t know how he knew that, but he just did. He never attributed a Pepper Potts (is that her first name?) to Stone. He always thought of Potts with… The thought faded away again, and he shook his head.

Somehow, she didn’t notice his roiling internal thoughts. Instead, she was looking down at her watch, frowning slightly. “I’m so sorry, but I’m late to my meeting. Thank you for saving my tablet from a certain death.”

“You’re welcome,” Steve said, but she had already left, rushing toward Stone Tower and leaving him behind on the sidewalk, befuddled by his memories.

It was as though there was a whole other set of memories overlaid on top of his reality. It was disorienting. Someone hip-checked him and swore, jostling him out of his thoughts. Now, the sidewalk was very crowded with harried businessmen and women, and they glared at him as they passed by. Staying out here any longer would ensure more than just the occasional dirty look and swear, so with a shrug, Steve turned around and headed back to his apartment.

The smell of coffee wafted throughout his apartment when he walked through the door, and it brought on a wave of nostalgiat. Coffee, black, three sugars.

Wait. That wasn’t it.

Steve’s coffee only had cream - he never had been able to afford sugar before, and he acquired the taste without it. He didn’t know why he was thinking about sugar, especially three cubes of it. He didn’t have that much of a sweet tooth. Steve poured his coffee into his mug, making it just the way he liked. The coffee was perfectly hot, not scalding and not warm, and it warmed his body.

As part of his routine, Steve reached for his phone. The news popped up, and Steve skimmed through it while he set the pan on the stove, then reached into his fridge for some eggs and bacon. He placed the bacon into the pan once it was hot, and fat sizzled brightly. Once he was caught up with the morning news, he moved onto his email. SHIELD email, SHIELD email, more SHIELD emails. He starred the first one, replied to the second one, read through a few more as he lifted the bacon out of the pan and cracked his egg on the counter. The egg popped in the bacon fat. His stomach growled in response. In a few moments, he had a perfect sunny side up, and he laid it on top of his bacon. It wasn’t much by any means, but it was comfort food.

Steve had just sat down at his dining table when his phone pinged and the SHIELD alert came through.

_ Fury wants you, _ Natasha texted. Tasha.

No.

Nat. He never called Natasha “Tasha.” So why was his brain thinking about a Tasha? He turned the idea over and over in his mind, but his phone pinged again.

_ Mission for you. _

Steve sighed and looked down at his plate before he shrugged and took a bite of his food. While the mission was important, his stomach needed fuel first. While Steve was chewing on the crunch of bacon, he texted back,  _ Give me an hour. _

_ Thirty, _ she immediately replied.

_ Forty-five. _ A compromise.

_ See you. _

They weren’t much for pleasantries, so Steve set down his phone and finished his plate quickly before he walked to his room. He wanted a shower, but there was no time for that. Steve sighed and reached for his uniform. He shoved it into his duffel bag, along with some fresh shirts and sweatpants. Once he was done, he hitched the strap over his shoulder. Then, he took one last glance at his room.

In the far corner was his shield, partially hidden in the shadows. He huffed in amusement. It wouldn’t serve him well to forget his most important piece of his equipment. He walked over, picking up the shield. His fingers brushed delicately over the cool metal, and he smiled.

Then he gasped lightly, for there was a gentle touch that brushed over the back of his hands, and there was a soft, ghostly press against his lips before the feeling faded away. He stood there, stunned, unable to make heads or tails of what he imagined. The back of his neck prickled with pleasure, but he had no idea why.

Finally, Steve swallowed, drawing the shield closer to himself before he turned and left his room. He hoped it would be a short mission. As much as he liked missions, sometimes a short one was nice so that he could come home to his bed. 

A nondescript car was waiting for him at the curb when Steve stepped outside. As soon as he slipped inside, the car wove back into traffic, taking him wherever he needed to go. He never talked to the drivers, and they never talked back - this SHIELD driver was much the same.

Left alone in his own thoughts, his mind turned over and over upon the question that had been niggling at him all day: he had been getting echoes of a life that  _ he didn’t know. _ It just didn’t make any sense. It confused him and frankly, it gave him a headache trying to decipher what his brain was telling him. From the morning run, to the fact that Steve called Natasha Romanov “Tasha” instead of “Nat,” he felt completely off his game. And then there was the fact that he seemed to have a ghost following him, caressing his hands and lips, like he was given a “good luck, see you later” kiss. It just felt so  _ weird. _

The car stopped in front of the SHIELD building, and Steve walked out without so much as a “thank you.” They were both doing their jobs. Agents passed by him without so much as a glance; he was much less noticeable without his uniform. Still, some did recognize him, mostly those who worked with him or worked for him, and they greeted him.

Natasha met him at the door. “Solo mission,” she said succinctly, following him inside. “Fury wants you. He looks as if he’s about to blow a gasket.”

“How about the intel from the other mission? Isn’t that mission live?” Steve asked.

“Yeah, but whatever he wants you to do takes precedence,” she replied. “Clint’s still in recon mode, and I’m going back undercover to see if we can get more intel before we strike. There’s no rush.”

And Steve was lousy at reconnaissance, so he wouldn’t be able to do much either until Natasha and Clint returned with the needed intel. “Okay. Stay safe.”

“Don’t I always?” Natasha replied with a slight uptilt at the corners of her lips. She slunk away as smoothly as a spy does, leaving him to knock on Director Fury’s door alone.

“Come in.”

Steve slipped inside, and Fury barely took a glance at him before he tossed a file towards him. It slammed on the desk, sliding forward until it barely went over the edge. “Namor’s been causing trouble again,” he huffed.

Steve approached him cautiously, peering down at the closed file. “Is she fighting T’Challa again? Am I to do intervention as usual?”

“I wish.” Even though Fury didn’t actually roll his eyes, Steve had been working with him long enough to tell the slight inflection of his tone showed how much he actually wanted to. “It would be a lot easier than the mess she created this time.”

“What did she do?” Steve asked, even as he plucked the file off the desk and opened it.

But Fury answered him readily. “Stealing oil tankers from the ocean.”

“Isn’t that a good thing though?” Namor had always been interested in saving the environment. Steve couldn’t fault her for that.

“Not when she’s also taking sailors right off the ships and making them sex slaves.”

The next instinctive question would have been how Fury got his intel, but Steve knew that Fury wouldn’t tell him. It was all part of the secrets of spies. Though, “Sex slaves?” That was new.

“I don’t even want to know what’s going on in that crazy bitch’s brain,” Fury said flatly. “Just go liberate those sailors and bring them home.”

It was clear that he was dismissed, so Steve left his office, heading toward the locker room to change. The uniform, as usual, fit him like a second skin, and he spent a moment stroking the fabric. It had been made with love, to protect him from danger…

No. His Cap uniform was made for practicality, so why was he thinking about someone making this uniform just for him, making every inch of it perfect so that he would be less injured when he went on missions? It didn’t make any sense. God, he must be a scene, stroking his pecs like he was half-way toward making a porno. At the thought, he dropped his hands hurriedly. His cheeks were hot; he was sure he looked fire-engine red too. Thank god no one was watching him when he turned around. He slammed his locker door and took a moment to close his eyes in embarrassment. Then, he picked up his shield and headed towards his ride. He needed to get his head in the game - he had a mission to accomplish. It was routine now: Fury comes knocking on Steve’s door, telling him to go fix a Namor problem, Steve would hop onto the helicopter and fly to Atlantis, where Namor would be waiting for him with insults on her tongue. 

Same old, same old.

“You missing something?”

Steve’s been around spies too long to jump in surprise. Instead, he turned around, looking at Nat who stood merely a foot away from him. She held something in her hands.

It was his underwater helmet.

“How did—”  _ you know? _ Really, he should know better to ask. They were spies after all. Steve quickly corrected course and took it from her. “Thanks.”

“Good luck with Namor,” she said in reply, turning away and heading back to the building. Steve watched her leave this time, and he huffed out a disbelieving laugh. He would never fail to admire the way the people he worked with had too much of an ability to extract confidential information.

Just as he was about to turn away, at the corner of his eye, there was a flash of flowing brown hair, and Steve pivoted, shocked. There was a woman at the far end of the deck who was walking...no,  _ gliding _ away on her sharp stilettos, wavy long hair fluttering in the wind. There was something shockingly familiar with the way her hips swayed from side to side, looking more perfect than anyone had a right to be. That business suit was like a second skin to her, every inch of fabric accentuating all her curves just right...

When he blinked, she was gone, no trace of her presence remained. His breath was completely taken away by her, and his heart was pounding in his chest as if it was reaching out to that woman he didn’t know. 

He didn’t know her, but somehow there was a name that slipped out of his mouth unconsciously. “Natasha.” The words were caught by the strong wind of the chopper blades, so no one but God heard it. Steve closed his mouth with a resounding  _ snap. _ He hadn’t even known that his mouth was open in the first place. Finally, Steve shook himself out of his stupor and slipped into the helicopter. There was nothing he could do now to figure out the mystery of that woman.

The chopper blades drowned out any other sound as they lifted off. It was weird, sitting in this loud metal can. He hadn’t been in a helicopter in a long time, but...there was no other alternative. Perhaps a jet, a quiet one?

But there was no such thing as a “quiet jet” on the market. There were just so many unanswered questions in his mind and weird feelings in his chest. It drove Steve crazy. With a harsh sigh, he shoved the thoughts back into the deepest crevice of his mind because Fury needed him to take care of Namor, not...think about anything else.

It felt like it took too long for the copter to reach Atlantis, but the underwater city was finally in sight, and like always, Steve’s breath was taken away at the thought of a whole civilization below the sea. The helicopter hovered close to the ocean, its blades cutting through the water. Down below somewhere, there would be Atlantis, and Namor was probably waiting for him. Steve affixed his helmet to his head, and with a nod to the pilot, Steve leapt out through the open door and dived into the ocean below.

Like usual, the initial rush of cold water was a shock to his system, but he was grateful at the fact that his uniform kept him mostly insulated from the piercing cold of the Atlantic. He quickly swam down

and down

and down

until the dome of the city appeared in his sight. It was a beautiful city, a shining beacon when the rest of this part of the world was black. 

Steve still preferred the above-water sights.

“My, you’re a sight for sore eyes.”

Steve turned his head to see Namor swimming beside him and smirking. There was blood on her dress, and the trident she held in her had trails of blood at its tips. He probably didn’t want to know. He sighed, and his breath fogged up the helmet. “Namor.”

“Ugh, are you using your Captain America voice?” Namor sneered, wrinkling her nose in disgust. “It feels like I’m being punished when I did nothing wrong.”

“Namor,” Steve said again, this time saying her name more as a warning. He didn’t want to play her games.

Namor stared at him. “Did Fury send you? Don’t answer that, of course he did. Telling me to stop stealing oil tankers, is that what it is?”

“You know it’s wrong.”

“They were polluting my ocean!” she cried, waving her trident above her head. Steve leaned back slightly so that it wouldn’t accidentally pierce him. “I had to do something.”

Steve raised an eyebrow. “But stealing sailors off the ships?”

Namor rolled her eyes. “They were working for  _ them. _ They  _ deserved _ to be punished. It’s a fitting punishment for the crime, okay?”

“Giving them gills and making them...prostitutes for your soldiers are not fitting punishment, as much as you like to think,” Steve told her. “Release them, and I won’t come back with the Avengers.”

“Like you would ever defeat me underwater,” Namor scoffed. “You know that this is my turf.”

_ “Namor,” _ Steve said severely. 

She huffed. “Okay, fine. I’ll release them to your care.” Namor paused significantly. Her eyes were calculative; Steve hated that look. It never bore anything good. But he was here for the sake of the captive sailors. “But! Reparations must be paid in kind.”

Steve jerked back in horror. “You want me to—” he choked off when Namor sidled up to him, pressing her hands upon his chest. 

“Yes, you know what I want in return. You take the sexual favors away from my soldiers, you can pay  _ me _ back with a sexual favor.”

Steve clenched his jaw. Out of any reparations that he thought he would pay Namor, he never expected that. He should have. She tilted her head, smirking knowingly. They both knew that Steve was going to do it, no matter how much he hated the notion. She leaned forward and whispered in her ear, “At least you’re fucking me and not being fucked by one of my soldiers.”

“Fine,” he gritted out, and he let Namor pull him into the city, into the palace, into her bed.

In here, Namor was as much as a shark as out there, looking all predatory as she pressed her body against Steve’s, matching the lengths of their bodies from chest to waist. He could feel her heat through his uniform, and as much as he hated it, his body was reacting to the feeling of another body pressing against his. He let her pull off his helmet.

“Don’t worry, I’ve changed it to air,” Namor said amusedly when she saw him holding his breath. “I know that your dumb species can’t breathe underwater, so I’ve drained the water from my room.”

“How considerate of you,” Steve said, exhaling.

“Less considerate and more selfish,” Namor said. She slipped a hand around the back of his neck and pulled him in for a kiss. It was all violence and brutality, biting and heavy as they kissed. Steve wrapped his arms around her body, fingers sliding up the bare skin of her back.

To be honest, Steve never thought of her in this way, like they would be compatible, for they were comrades in arms first before anything else. She wasn’t his type either, all butch and harsh lines, fought like a man and swore like a sailor.

He needed to do this though - his body was SHIELD’s, and when they said “jump,” he didn’t have to ask “how high?” Steve broke off their kiss with a gasp. His fingers blindly unlatched her bra, and they slipped off of her shoulders. Simultaneously, he broke away from her touch for a moment as she pulled his uniform over his head. 

They shed the rest of their clothes, dropping them to the floor, and then Namor pushed him backwards until he hit the edge of the bed. She looked down, dragging her fingers across the lines of his abs and made an appreciative noise.

“Like what you see?” Steve couldn’t help but ask, flopping back onto the soft mattress. She followed him down easily.

“You’re really not my type,” Namor said, smirking. “I prefer less cock and more pussy. But if it has to be cock, you’ll do.”

Raging, red-hot jealousy in the pit of his stomach threatened to overflow. At this moment, he  _ hated _ her. But besides the fact that she was doing something wrong, there was no other viable reason as to why Steve was so angry. He was though, like there was something he needed to prove. Steve snarled, “Then why am I fucking you?”

“Well technically,  _ I’m _ fucking  _ you,” _ she replied, sidling up to kiss him again. Namor pressed her hands upon his chest and rubbed his nipples until they were hardened by her ministrations. The soft circling around his nubs turned into biting pinches, and he gasped into her mouth, arching off the bed when she tugged on them. She said, voice dismissive and uncaring. “Not much in the rack department, I have to say, although your chest  _ is _ pretty impressive.”

In lieu of answering her insults, he lifted his head off the mattress. He pulled her down by the back of her neck and flipped them over. “Well, thank God you’re not my type either,” he bit back. Steve leaned down until he nosed her pointy ears. He dragged his lips along the edge of them. “I prefer my women to be more...curvy and a little bit more feminine.”

“So we’re just two soldiers fucking each other,” Namor said, thrusting her hips up until she pressed her pussy against his cock. She was wet already, and Steve ground down, feeling his cock grow even harder.

“You did say that you were fucking me,” Steve said. “But it seems like I’m fucking you after all.”

“Fucking asshole,” Namor snarled, bucking up to flip their positions over. It was impressive, for Steve was much, much heavier than she was, but really, it wasn’t the first time Steve had seen her strength. She had used it out in the battlefield, fighting against enemies who were twice, even thrice her size. Even Steve could admit that using that strength against him was kinda hot.

Steve brought his hands up, but Namor hissed, grabbing both his wrists and pinning them above his head. Her eyes were dark. “This is just business, Steve. Nothing more.”

“Whatever you say,” Steve replied. He knew she was enjoying this. If she wanted to use his body the way she wanted to, well. This was a reparation after all. Under half-lidded eyes, Steve watched her bend her head, nipping his skin along his jaw, down his neck, across his collarbone. He gasped and he moaned - he couldn’t help himself.

When Namor grew tired of teasing Steve, she reached down to grab his cock and line herself up. Then she sunk down, and Steve was…

_...thrusting up into the soft, wet heat of her body. _

_ “You fucked Namor,” Steve growled, drawing back until only the tip of his cock stayed between her folds. “You think I wouldn’t be jealous about that?” _

_ She was riding him, hands behind her back as was ordered by Steve. Her thighs were shaking with the strain of holding herself up, and she let out a punched-out groan when Steve thrust into her again. “Well,” she said, panting, “It wasn’t about jealousy. It was just business. Namor had the Time Stone. I needed it.” _

_ “So you thought fucking Namor was the way to go, wasn’t it.” In one smooth motion, Steve flipped their positions over. She landed onto their mattress with an exhaled “oof,” brown hair sprawling over their pillow. She was beautiful even when she looked like a mess. A sexy mess. He couldn’t help himself but lean over her and snatch her breath out of her lips. He wasn’t her keeper, he couldn’t be. He could never be. She was always the more independent one of the two of them, fighting to take every step in a patriarchal world, breaking down every possible barrier. He would never be able to stop her from doing what she needed or wanted to do. It didn’t mean that he couldn’t be jealous about it when she did fuck other people. _

_ It did make for some great angry sex after all. _

_ Her eyes pierced him. “You  _ know _ Namor and the way she operates. She always asks for sexual favors, you know that.” _

_ He actually didn’t, not before she told him that. With a huff, Steve thrust in and then he drew out entirely. He savored the whine she let out. _

_ “Sure,” he said agreeably. “Wanna tell me how you guys fucked?” _

_ Her eyes sparkled with mirth. “If I do, are you gonna fuck me to high hell?” _

_ “It depends,” Steve replied, pressing kisses down the length of her neck. Sweat pooled at the hollow of her neck, and he licked that up, drawing a sweet moan from her mouth. _

_ “On what?” she asked breathlessly, bucking her hips up. Steve wasn’t having that though, so he sat on her legs to stop her from moving. He didn’t like denying himself, but hearing her groan of frustration made it all worth it. _

_ “Depends on how jealous I am.”  _

_ “So you want me to tell you how she ate me out, pressed her tongue against my clit, and fucked me with a strap-on.” _

_ Steve couldn’t stop the growl that spilled out, and she smirked. “Yeah, that’s right,” she said coyly, “Namor  _ fucked _ me. I mean, I fucked her too, but mostly she fucked me. Leaned over me and all, pressing me down in her bed as she rubbed my clit and took my nipples into her mouth. Grabbed my hair and pulled my head backward.” _

_ Steve leaned over her, jealousy boiling him alive. He grabbed a fistful of her hair and tightened his grip. She moaned, eyes closing in pure pleasure as she tried to buck up. “Fuck. God, like that. Just like that. Kissed my neck and everything. It was one of the hottest sexcapades I’ve ever had.” _

_ Steve let out another growl, and she laughed. She  _ fucking _ laughed. In retaliation, he leaned down and nipped her exposed neck before pressing a bruising kiss to it. “So, who’s better, her or me?” he asked. _

_ She smirked, partially making him regret asking those words. But then again, she always loved to rile him up. “So far Namor’s winning. Keep going, and I might change my mind.” _

_It was an incentive to lift her into his arms and thrust right back into the folds of her glorious heat. “Such a greedy cunt,” he snarled. She was_ his, _goddamnit._ _He wanted to be hers too._

_ “You are mine,” she tells him softly, making him realize that he said his statement aloud. She carded her finger through his sweaty hair, looking down at him with mild regret. “You have always been mine and you’ll always be mine. Being fucked by someone else doesn’t change that.” _

_ It was an old argument, one that they had come to terms with a long time ago. She always used sex as a bargaining tool. Her heart and her soul, on the other hand, were a completely different story, and Steve knew that he owned those. Steve slowed down his thrusts, as if in apology, leaning up to kiss her. Their kisses were messy, as wet as her pussy, and she curled her hand behind Steve’s head to deepen the kiss. _

_ He irrevocably loved her. “I love you,” Steve murmured into her mouth. _

_ “I know,” she replied just as softly. “I love you too.” _

_ And all at once, all the fight drained out of him. She loved him, and he knew that. Steve tipped her gently back onto the mattress, lifting his head up so that he could smile and see her beautiful brown eyes, molten chocolate looking back at him. She was the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. _

_ Steve sighed softly, caressing her body delicately. She was like a flower, his flower, and she was his most precious treasure. She brushed her hand against his cheek, and he turned, nuzzling into the silky palm and feeling the pulse at her wrist. Steve lifted a hand, reached down between her legs, and pressed against her swollen clit, rubbing it up and down. He smiled when her moans slipped out between her reddened lips. _

_ He tangled their legs together as their breaths grew heavier with lust. Steve couldn’t help but lean down as she wrapped her arms around his neck and shared breathless kisses. Steve could feel the heated pool deep within his core, hovering over the edge as he drew out of her body. Her body seized as Steve pushed his cock into her. Her cunt throbbed, pulsing around his dick and drawing… _

...his own orgasm out of him. He moaned breathlessly as Namor milked his cock, riding him roughly.

“Fuck!” He wasn’t thinking about Namor at all, but another body that he shared his love to. He bucked up, his dick pulsing in her wet heat. Namor bounced atop of him a few more times.

“Seven out of ten, I suppose,” Namor said, voice careless. She blinked down at him lazily. “Dick was good. Just not my thing.”

“Is this dick good enough for you?” Steve panted out. Sweat dried upon his skin, making him feel sticky.

She shrugged. “Perhaps. Still prefer a good lesbian dicking.” Namor finally pulled off of him, and his cock flopped limply against his abs. She picked up her clothes from the floor and put them back on until she looked like the monarch she was. “You can have the sailors back, but don’t expect me to be so lenient next time they pollute my waters.”

“Okay,” Steve said, but she had already left, leaving him alone in her bedroom, naked and cold. He sighed, thinking back to his thoughts.

Memories.

The thoughts were too real for it not to be imagination. The feeling of that delicate body under his broad palms, the soft heat of her cunt as he pressed his cock into her, the long flow of her brown hair. He just didn’t know  _ who _ she was. He’d never met her before. However, he instinctively knew that at some point, he’d given his heart to her. He inhaled, and he could smell the faint scent of blueberries and honey before it faded away.

Steve sat up, heart aching for the woman he didn’t know. He got up, shivering slightly while he scrambled to collect his uniform, which had been strewn haphazardly on the floor during their escapade. His skin abraded as he got dressed again, and he felt...conflicted.

Namor was a job, but he still felt guilty at the fact that he fucked her for the sake of SHIELD. That woman in his mind was the one he wanted, not anyone else, and especially not Namor. Steve closed his eyes, sighing. He missed her, this mysterious woman, although he didn’t know why.

There were clues, of course. Brown hair, a smart business suit, him loving her. Steve calling Natasha “Tasha” instead of “Nat.” But it didn’t make sense at all because he had never seen this woman in his imagination. It was pulling his sanity apart.

He walked out of Namor’s bedroom, leaving the scent of sweat and sex behind him. Absently, Steve combed through his hair, then stopped when he realized that it made him look more fucked than he already was. He patted his hair down instead before placing his helmet back on his head. He pinged for a ride and left Atlantis behind. He knew Namor would uphold her end of the deal, as much as she hated it, so he wasn’t worried about the sailors. They would go home when she was done with them.

Going back to SHIELD was a low-key, silent affair, and Steve didn’t feel like staying at SHIELD any longer than he had to. He left as soon as he landed on base, shooting Fury a memo that the mission was accomplished. Steve clocked out and went home.

In the morning, when he thought that his home was home sweet home, it now didn’t feel much like a home. It was like he was missing something. 

Like that woman was supposed to be here, being the other half of himself. His mind was obsessed with her, like there was no tomorrow without her. Mechanically, Steve moved towards the bathroom, fully intending to shower off all the sweat and sex from his escapade with Namor earlier. But as he stripped, his eyes caught his image in the mirror. He leaned closer, looking at the downturned corners of his lips.

His eyes were sad as if they spoke of unspeakable loss. But he hadn’t lost anyone, not that he knew of, except that woman in his dreams. His breath stuttered, heart aching for her. Even as the water sluiced over his body in the shower, all he could think of was the ghostly feeling of her arms wrapping around him.

“Tasha.” The word just slipped out of his mouth, unbidden.

It just took shape in his mind, that beautiful woman with gorgeous honey brown eyes looking back at him with a twinkle in her eye, body delicate but deceptively weak. She was so very strong, silently bidding him forward. Steve absently shut off the water, stepping out of the shower still dripping wet. Water pooled on the floor as he walked naked to his room.

His eyes fell towards his sketchbook beside his bed. He wasn’t sure what compelled him to pick it up. Nothing about this life made sense though.

As the memory became afterimages in his mind, Steve sketched quickly, shaping the drawing into the woman in his mind, sprawling out upon a couch with her head thrown over the armrest. Her legs weren’t thin, but they were long and fairly muscular, stretched out the entire length of the couch.

_“Draw me like one of your French girls, Steve,”_ _she husked out, arching her back even more. Steve laughed as his cock filled._

_ “You can’t just do that and not expect me to react,” Steve said. _

_ She turned her head with an eyebrow raised. “But what if I  _ want _ you to react?” _

_ He tossed his notebook onto the table and leapt onto the couch with one powerful move. “Sexy,” she said, laughing when he landed lightly atop of her. “Using your supersoldier power for good use.” _

_ “Such a vixen,” Steve growled, slithering down her body so that he could lick at her peaked breasts. _

_ She wrapped her legs around his waist. “Only for you.” _

Steve blinked, looking down at the sketch he did. It was _her._ _She_ made him happy, even though he couldn’t figure out why. One of her arms trailed to the floor. Even though it was so small, Steve could see that he had drawn a ring on her ring finger.

He gasped, stumbling backwards. His thigh hit the nightstand, tipping it backwards. Automatically, he reached out to steady it, but not before the drawer opened a bit. As Steve reached to close it again, the gleam of something caught his eye. He opened the drawer further instead to see a ruby red ring tucked in the corner.

He picked it up, and he remembered:

_ The incursions were unstoppable. Steve stood in the War Room with the rest of the team. For all the events before that seemed undefeatable, this was the one thing that  _ was _ undefeatable. _

_ “The Stones are gone, and yet the incursions keep happening,” Steve said. “Who has a solution?” _

_ For all the smartest people in the room with him, there was absolutely no one who could even answer his question. Steve slammed his hand on the table in frustration. If they couldn’t fight this incursion, they would die. _

_ “There’s the Crimson Sphere,” Reed Richards said slowly. “But that’s only a one-time thing, just as much as the Stones were.” _

_ “And what is the consequence for using it?” Steve was exhausted. He hadn’t been the same since he used the Stones to push the other Earth away from the last incursion. He sat down heavily. This time, stubbornness wouldn’t help him at all. _

_ “The other Earth explodes,” Natasha said softly. _

_ “That’s not an option,” Steve said. _

_ “Well, we don’t have any other options!” Natasha exclaimed. “We can’t stop this by pure will Steve. Either we kill them all, or we all die.” _

_ “And killing seven billion people?” Steve challenged, lifting back to his feet. Fuck this, he was furious. Adrenaline fueled his body. “Can you allow that on your conscience?”  _

_ “Better than destroying fourteen billion people!” Natasha yelled back. _

_ Steve reared back. “I’m disappointed in you,” he said softly. He watched as Natasha wilted in her chair, but he was too mad to take back his words. He looked toward the rest of the team. “Find a solution, one that doesn’t kill the other Earth.” _

Unlike earlier, where the memories merely trickled in, it was like the ring unlocked a part of his brain so that everything flowed back in a tide. Steve collapsed to his knees, breaths stuttering out of his lungs, and tears began to leak out of the corner of his eyes. He clutched the ring in his hands, and...

_ “The Time Stone’s the only thing that I can think of that will stop all of this from happening,” she said through her faceplate. In her hand was the gleaming green Time Stone, shining brightly from the power emanating from it. Her workshop emitted with the glow of the Time Stone. _

_ “No,” Steve whispered. He was on the wrong side of the workshop glass. He needed to be on the other side, not on this side where he couldn’t do anything but watch Natasha do something stupid. “Don’t do this Tasha.” _

_ There was a crackling sound that emitted from her mic. “You can’t have it both ways, Steve. It’s either the Crimson Sphere or this. And you didn’t want me to use the Crimson Sphere.” _

_ “But I don’t want you to sacrifice yourself either!” Steve cried. He stepped forward, hand reaching out to her. He made a fist. He would punch through the glass if he had to. But Natasha had her hand extended, palm towards him, repulsor whining.  _

_ “Don’t come any closer Steve. Don’t you dare.” _

_ Steve wasn’t completely sure she wouldn’t blast at his chest in order to stop her, no matter how much it would hurt her to do so. He punched the glass anyway. His fist bounced harmlessly off the glass, and all he could do was see Natasha cradle the Time Stone in her hand. “Don’t do this,” Steve pleaded. “We can figure out another way.” _

_ “This was the other way,” she said.  _

_ “How do you know that this will even work?” For they tried this once before, with Steve. And it didn’t work with him. “Last time we only pushed away the other Earth. And we thought the Stones were destroyed!” _

_ She was silent for a moment. “They weren’t destroyed. They were scattered.” _

_ “How did you even know that?” _

_ “Namor told me.” _

_ It all made sense now. Natasha fucked Namor for the Time Stone. That was the favor that she needed. He couldn’t hate Namor more at this time. But Natasha had made up her mind, that was obvious. “How do you know it will work?” _

_ “Because the wish is different,” she said. “I can fix all this.” _

_ “At the cost of your life?” Steve whispered. _

_ There was a sound of static, like her helmet couldn’t translate the noise from her. “I’m just collateral damage.” _

_ “Not to me!” Steve burst out. _

_ “I’m sorry.” Natasha took off her helmet, and he could see her sweaty face and matted hair and her sad eyes. “I can fix all of this, take away the incursions.” _

_ “No!” Steve shouted. He punched the glass again and again, ignoring the aching pain in his fist to try to stop Natasha from using the Time Stone. Even so, he knew his best wouldn’t be enough to stop the golden glow from enveloping her face. “Tasha, no!” _

_ “Goodbye Steve,” she whispered. But his supersoldier hearing enhanced it so that it sounded as if she was bellowing those words at the top of her lungs. _

_ The glass cracked under his knuckles, and he punched the glass again. This time the glass completely shattered, spilling to the ground. _

_ It was too late. Natasha was gone. Everything was... _

And tears poured down Steve’s face. His body shook with the agony. The incursions were fixed, at the cost of Natasha’s life. He didn’t know whether the heartbreak was worth all that. If he could do it again, he would choose the Crimson Sphere, seven billion humans be damned. If he could have Natasha, it would have been all worth it. Not this…utter agony.

He sobbed, tipping his head down until it touched the floor, tears dripping onto the wood. This apartment wasn’t his home. Natasha was, and she was gone, leaving only broken memories and ghosts of her presence behind.

“It’s not fair,” he whispered, holding her ring to his chest. “I didn’t want you to sacrifice yourself at the expense of the rest of the world.”

It was all his fault, and he couldn’t fix it. This was his nightmare.

With a broken breath, he shut his eyes, regretting all the decisions he had made.

The stone on the ring shone in the palm of his hand, but in his grief and exhaustion, he never noticed that it listened to his pleas.

——

Steve awoke with a heaving gasp, hand automatically reaching out towards…

...the warm flesh of someone next to him. He opened his eyes, stunned, to see long brown hair strewn over the pillow. His eyes roved down, taking in her closed eyes and the way that her plush pink lips rounded in an “o” as she slept. Asleep, she looked much softer, more delicate, than when she was awake.

Inadvertently, his questing fingers tangled between her fingers, and he squeezed them slightly tighter.

He couldn’t believe that she was here. Natasha. The person he believed he sent to her doom.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, tears beginning to stream down his face onto the pillow.

“For what?” she asked, opening her eyes sleepily. She smacked her lips and smiled. “Hey stranger.”

Steve barked out a wet laugh. “Hey.”

“Why are you crying?” Natasha brought her free hand up to his face and wiped his tears away.

He couldn’t believe it, that she was here. “Is this a dream?” He didn’t think his heart could take it if she wasn’t real.

Something pinched his hand. “Ow!” It didn’t really hurt; it was more surprising to feel Natasha’s nails dig into the back of his hand. He grimaced. “I guess this isn’t a dream.”

“No, not really.” She smirked. “But seriously, what did I miss?”

“I thought you were dead,” he said softly, looking into her eyes. There was so much regret he couldn’t say because it overwhelmed him so. “You were  _ gone.” _

“But I’m here now,” she replied just as softly, tucking her thin hand under his neck and bringing him closer. He went willingly, sniffling as she pulled them together and kissed him. When their lips touched, it set off sparks in Steve’s mind, and he moaned, wrapping her up in his arms.

“Till death do us part, yeah?” Natasha pulled back and waggled her fingers. She had her ring on, the one that shone in the darkness, casting a ruby red glow between them. Steve recognized that Stone.

“That’s the Reality Stone,” he said in awe, pulling her fingers down so that he could peer at the gem more closely. He made his wish come true, and that was the best part in all of this.

The incursions were gone, and Steve had Natasha back. Steve pressed a soft kiss to the tips of her fingers like the lady that she was and he replied, “I’m never letting you go.”

He was finally home.

**Author's Note:**

> TL;DR notes:  
> 1\. Natasha Stark is dead/snapped/gone at the beginning of the fic due to the usage of the Infinity Stones. In doing so, she reverses the Incursions, but also wipes herself from everyone's memories.  
> 2\. Steve fucks a female Namor as a business transaction. Natasha does too.
> 
> \---  
> Please read and kudos both Jay's [work](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24086329) and kait's wonderful [RBB fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24095524/)!
> 
> I'm on [tumblr](https://la-toratempesta.tumblr.com/)!


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